Eternal Beloved
by blackkyu
Summary: In which Ladybug is injured, leaving Chat Noir to protect her crumbled body and Paris alone, Plagg has simply had enough of watching his kittens die, and people start going crazy. Some forms of magic are forbidden for a reason, and no-one's going to like the consequences…
1. Chapter 1: Fainting is a Thing

**Disclaimer: I own naughta**

Chapter One: Fainting is a thing…

Decay, decay and more decay, it was everywhere, from the random remnants of a potted house plant, to the chilling remains of a house pet.

The voices of the civilians swirled around them as Ladybug and Chat Noir glared, crouched before the remains of a home, guarding the escape route as the citizens of Paris fled, voices panicked and high pitched in their flight.

The laughter of the Akumatized civilian was chilling, his white wings spread wide and golden halo glinting in the sun, eyes demonic slits as he observed his prey.

"I am Angel," he declared with a bow, "we needn't keep up this fruitless battle, simply hand me your Miraculous' and I'll be on my way."

"How kind of you," Ladybug replied, smile fierce, "but I'm a _fur_ ed we'll have to re _fur_ se this _meow_ cous offer." Chat Noir continued, grin full of teeth, tail swooshing back and forth in agitation behind him.

"Oh?" Angel cocked his head to the side, before shrugging, "well, it's your funeral."

Thankfully, the last of the civilians had evacuated before the wave of sharp white feathers came down. Swift and sure the duo deflected them, sending the nasty things flying into the street or homes, or random flowers, regardless, whatever they touched began to melt, to fall to pieces and decay.

It was clear the Akuma was in the pendant around Angels neck, but as wave after wave of feathers came crashing down upon their heads, they had no means of reaching it.

"Any idea's my Lady?" Chat all but shouted, arms straining against the onslaught.

"Cover me!"

"As you wish." He smiled, making his way over to his Lady as swiftly as possible Chat positioned himself directly before her, staff extending in length to cover more area.

With a grateful smile Ladybug tossed her yoyo up in the air, "Lucky Charm!"

From the sky fell a metal slab of what appeared to be, "platinum?" Thankfully it didn't take long to figure out what to do with it, tossing the rather large metal slab back up into the air, Ladybug used her yoyo to get her to the nearest rooftop, once again grateful that her partner understood her intentions so quickly, and had proceeded to do what he did best, provide a distraction. Catching the item in her hand, she quickly hid, traversing the shadows as best she could before stopping to the left of Angel. Taking a deep breath, she steadied the metal slap on the roof, using it as a shield, she huddled behind the object, waiting for the right moment to strike.

She didn't have to wait long, with a yelp, Chat Noir was sent flying backwards, Angel's sword singing in the sunlight. Before the Akuma could send out another wave of feathers to follow up the attack, Ladybug sent out her yoyo, capturing Angel's left wing, the yoyo tangled up in feathers all the way to the joint.

He struggled, and spat, trying to use his sword to cut the yoyo's string, but before he could a certain staff, sent flying into the air, knocked it from his hand, with his sword heading for the ground the Akuma resorted to using his other wing, spread wide, he sent a volley of feathers crashing into Ladybug's makeshift shield. Before the shield could fall, Ladybug _tugged_ and something snapped. With an ear shattering scream Angel plummeted to the ground. Carefully, Chat made his way to the withering mass of feathers and used his regained weapon to slowly lift the pendent from the Akuma's neck. Careful not to chock him, Chat tossed the pendant into the air, watching with a satisfied smile as a yoyo speed out towards the item.

"You won't get away with this!"

They didn't have enough time to react.

The building began to crumble to dust…

And she was falling…

"Ladybug!"

He wouldn't make it, some part of Chat's mind screamed, _oh, but they would_! Another part snarled, green eyes glowing in determination, Chat speed through the dust and falling debris, eyes searching franticly for a flash of red. It took a second, but he spotted her, form almost completely hidden, buried under rubble on the second floor. Rushing to her side he used his staff to keep the rest of the falling building _away._ He had to get her out, _now_ , there was so much blood pooling up underneath her, and there was no guarantee the floor would hold out much longer. _But how?_ He almost cried out loud, _why not use destruction to defeat destruction?_ A voice purred in his head, almost throwing him off.

But the voice had a point, and there was no time to worry about it now, steeling himself and kneeling down before his Lady, he shouted, "Cataclysm!"

As soon as she was free Chat scooped Ladybug up into his arms and _ran._ It didn't matter where to, so long as it was _away_ and there was _help_.

"Aww, poor little kitty," Angel sneered, chasing after him, four wings now donning his back, though one of them hung limply to his side, and pendant resting snuggly around his neck, "do you honestly think you can escape me?"

Chat ignored him, instead changing direction.

"The great Ladybug has fallen, and her poor kitty is so very, very hurt," Angel continued, undeterred, "just look at all those bits and pieces sticking out, haha, oh my, is that a metal rod coming out of your back little kitty? What'd you do, let the building use you as a pincushion?"

With narrowed eyes, Chat continued to ignore him, speeding up and then…disappearing.

Halting, Angel glanced about. The hero had led them to a more desolate part of Paris, quit and full of old buildings, haunting in their grace and shadows. If he remembered correctly, there was an underground tunnel around here. He almost wanted to laugh, Chat Noir was making this so simple, this area was the perfect place to die.

Hawkmoths voice echoed in his head, "make sure to get their Miraculous before you bury them!" he snarled, sending a shock of pain through Angel's body when his sole response was a roll of the eyes.

"On it, on it," the Akuma mumbled, rubbing his head.

He didn't notice the streak of black before it was too late.

Sharp claws and fangs dug into his back and tore at his wings. With a screech, Angel dove and spun, trying to dislodge the cat growling in his ear. The stupide cat had already used Cataclysm, there shouldn't be much time left for the hero's transformation, but telling himself that was not making the pain go away.

Letting lose a scream of anger and agony, the Akuma flew right into a window, making sure to be close enough to the edges to scrap off the hero. But the pain only intensified, Chat had managed to tear off a wing before he was dislodged.

The sun was still up, it was just midday, but only the shadows embraced the figure stalking towards the fallen Akuma, green eyes glowing, and blood falling like crimson tears from his fingertips.

His transformation was almost up, Angel kept telling himself, there's wasn't much time left. He'd win, he was sure of that.

But before him stood the embodiment of destruction.

But that couldn't be right, _Angel_ was destruction incarnate, anything his feathers touched would decay.

He could end it, he still had two wings left. All he had to do was spread his trembling wings wide and…

Wait, trembling? What was there to be scared of?

Ah, they were inside, if he let loose here, he'd be trapped as well, but, he could try to fly away, the window wasn't far…all he had to do was wait for the hero to run out of time.

Run…out…of…time?

Gleaming eyes stared into his own, so close and full of malice as a clawed hand ripped off his pendant.

"Goodnight, Akuma," Chat Noir snarled, crushing the item in his hand, and slicing the fleeing butterfly in two.

Ah, Angel thought before passing out, his screams match the atmosphere perfectly.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

" _Ladybug and Chat Noir have saved the day once again, however, it appears our heroes were severely hurt during the battle. Chat Noir was seen carrying Ladybug's body from the scene…."_

"Adrien."

It was strangely convenient, how that old man was there, all gentle smiles and warms eyes, as he promised to look after Marinette. Don't get him wrong, he grateful for the assist, he had been afraid he was going to lose his precious partner, and having her switch back to her civilian form in his arms-one of his cherished friends—almost made his mind go numb. But that didn't make the old man any less suspicious.

"Aaaadrien."

Speaking of suspicious, during the fight he'd gone kind of nuts, hadn't he? Try as he might, Adrien couldn't fully remember, and Plagg was of no help. There was that mysterious voice too, it had sounded like him, but it wasn't, was it? Maybe he was developing another personality? Should he seek psychiatric help? On top of that, how did he even _get home?_

"Stop ignoring me!"

Plagg flew into Adrien's face, smooshing the boys nose between his tiny paws, "I want some camembert!"

" _It's suspected that Ladybug may be out of commission for a while, until then, the Mayor has declared that he'll provide assistance for everyone who's home was destroyed during the attack…"_

"Do you think she'll be alright?" sad green eyes turned away from the news and looked to Plagg imploringly, "Did I make the right choice in trusting that guy?"

With a sigh the kwami crossed his arms, "get me some camembert and I'll answer a few of your questions, alright?"

"What, only a few?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Hhmm," Adrien smiled, before patting his kwami on the head with a finger. Running away with a laugh before Plagg could retaliate, he dragged his secret stash of camembert out into the open and took out three large slices of the nasty smelling cheese.

Waiting patiently, Adrien allowed Plagg to eat all three slices before asking his questions. Turning off the news feed, he spun in his desk chair and faced the kwami.

"Ladybug will be just fine," Plagg began, "she's probably in the hospital, resting, just like you should be."

"I'm fine, Plagg."

"You back looks like swiss cheese! There's no way that's fine!"

They stared at one another in silence for some time before Adrien turned to his phone and dialed a number.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure she's alright."

Alya picked up on the first ring, "great timing Prince," she started, voice strained, "I was about to call you."

"Is everyone alright?"

The silence was almost deafening, but eventually Alya let out a sigh, her voice shaking and unsure, "It's Marinette, she…she was hurt."

He already knew this, of course he did, he carried her away from the battle field, had held her limp and cold form close to his chest, ears straining, desperately listening for a heartbeat. But this did nothing to stop the painful clenching of his heart.

"How…how bad?"

"It's…she's…"Alya took a long breath, "they said she'd be fine, that she just needs a few months of rest, but…Adrien," he heard her sniff, "I…I…we almost lost her. They…they said it was a miracle that…that she got out of the building in one piece."

"The building?"

"Her parents…they found her in front of one of the decayed buildings, they'd been looking all over for her, we all were, we couldn't find her anywhere and!"

"Shh, it's alright, everything's alright, she's safe now," Adrien whispered kindly, sad smile on his face as he continued to reassure her, "when would be a good time to visit her?"

"Whenever," was the immediate answer, after she'd calmed down, causing the young model to blink in confusion, "ah," Alya laughed, "sorry, she'd just be really happy you stopped by, whenever you're free, I'll text you the visiting hours."

"Thank you, I'll be sure to visit tomorrow."

"No problem. Oh, and Adrien?"

"Hhhmm?"

"She uh, kind of hit her head rather hard, the doctors said when she wakes up she might act a bit odd, but it's a part of the healing process, so don't think too badly of her if she does anything…strange?"

"Strange?" he almost laughed, recalling all the times she tripped and stumbled, and simply couldn't string together a full sentence.

"…you may have a point. Well, either way, I've gotta go, good luck!"

"Thanks! Wait, why do I need good luck?" he murmured, staring at his phone before turning to Plagg in confusion.

The kwami simply shrugged his shoulders.

The rest of the night was spent drilling Plagg for answers. Which he didn't give many of. He had no clue what Adrien was talking about when he mentioned hearing a voice, but reassured him that if Adrien was at risk of going crazy, the kwami would be the first to know. He didn't recall much of the fight either, but said it was probably due to Adrien simply getting way to emotional, earning him a small scowl. As for what happened after the Akuma had been destroyed, well, it was Plagg's turn to look annoyed.

There's are very good reason why only Ladybug can purify the Akuma, she represents light. However, Chat Noir is her shadow, the darkness following in her footsteps, and what does a shadow do when it touches another shadow? It blends together, absorbs it, twists it, becomes one with it. All that sadness, anger and pain Adrien had felt, crushing his heart, making it hard to breath, to move, to even think, that was due to him absorbing the Akuma.

As Plagg explained this to him the model flinched, almost shrinking in on himself under the kwami's gaze. But another question came and he asked it with a little hesitance, "are there any other side effects?"

The kwami downright glared, "you're not possibly thinking of subjecting yourself to that again, are you?" the God of Destruction hissed.

"I don't know!" Adrien hissed back, "you heard Alya, Ladybug will be out of commission for maybe a few months, there's no way an Akuma isn't going to show up again during that time frame, we'll have to handle them somehow! And if there's no way to trap them, or purify them, then the only option left is to destroy them! Regardless of what it does to me!"

The two glared at one another.

"You're rather feisty today." Plagg sighed, drawing back and staring at his chosen in concern, "get some rest, we'll continue this conversation tomorrow, when we've both cleared our heads."

With a huff Adrien felt himself relax a little, "so you can act your age sometimes."

"I'll have you know, I always act my age."

"Uhhuh."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

To say Adrien felt better the next morning wouldn't be entirely accurate. His head felt clearer, the anguish of nearly losing his beloved Ladybug overridden with the knowledge that she was _okay,_ that she'd be _alright._ His annoyance with Plagg was soothed by understanding, the realization that the kwami _cared_ and simply didn't want to see him hurt made his heart flutter with appreciation. But gods did it _hurt._ His back felt like it was on fire, and his arms ached, barely able to lift a toothbrush.

He realized, before falling asleep, that the old man had appeared again and given him some form of aid, after Adrien had nearly passed out from absorbing the Akuma. The memory was fuzzy, at best, but it was still there, and it did clear a few things up—like why his back was now clear of dirt, chunks of brick and pieces of metal. It didn't clear up everything, nor answer who the man even was, but Adrien had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any more answers anytime soon, and simply filed the question away for a later date.

With a sigh of defeat, the model gave up on lifting the mouthwash, and resorted to plopping a mint into his mouth, grateful that Nathalie had insisted he kept them on him, just in case.

He was also grateful it was a free day, no school, no work, he could slowly, very, very slowly, make his way to visit Marinette.

He didn't know what jumping around as Chat Noir would do to his already screaming back, but if he had any intention of keeping Paris safe, he had to stay as healthy as possible. If there was anything he learned from his fencing instructor, it was that fighting while sick or hurt was not the brightest of ideas. It usually ended up with Adrien getting tossed about like a ragdoll and getting scolded.

"Nathalie," he called, after having painstakingly gotten dressed and cleaned up to the best of his ability, creeping out of his bedroom and down the hall, heading for the entrance, "you there?"

"Yes, Adrien?" his father's assistant replied, turning to him and raising an eyebrow, "are you headed out?"

"Ah, yes, actually, I was wondering if you could give me a lift?"

Her lips quirked up for a second, "where too?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He was left to his own devices at the main lobby, apparently his father had some important guests and needed Nathalie's assistance. Thanking her for the help, he let her know he'd give her a call when he was done.

From there finding out which room Marinette was staying in was simple. Sliding effortlessly into the elevator Adrien claimed a corner for himself, hoping that no one would accidently stumble into him. There was allot of people heading up, it seemed, and Plagg made it known that he did not approve of the smell. There was very little chatter, and the dark air hanging over the hospital was no doubt due to the number of people whom had been injured in the latest Akuma attack.

It wasn't strange that there would be people who'd get hurt, but due to Ladybug's power, the wounds where always healed at the end of a fight.

Seeing the people like this, subdued and scared, children clinging desperately to their parent's hands and asking if their siblings where going to be alright, made Adrien's heart clench in despair.

It's alright, he wanted to shout, everything will be fine, Ladybug and I, we'll fix everything!

But Ladybug was currently hurt, and he alone could do nothing to alleviate their suffering.

Balling his fists and bowing his head, he promised to himself at that moment, he'd protect them, no matter what it took. He just needed a plan.

With a ding the elevator doors opened and the people dispersed, leaving only Adrien and a lone child behind.

The door closed, and they began to ascend.

At first, he ignored the child, more intent on sorting things out in his mind. But when he heard a small hiccup, and saw those tiny shoulders shake, Adrien was kneeling before the child in a heartbeat. Ignoring how his back screamed, and his arms protested, he silently wiped away the child's tears and brushed his hands though the child's hair, uttering soothing words. He was almost thrown off balance when the child hugged him, burying his tiny face into his chest, small hands digging into his back.

For a kid, the little boy had a strong grip, and Adrien's world almost went black with the sudden pain, but he swallowed the scream and rested his face atop the child's head.

They stayed like that until the child's tears stopped. The elevator doors had opened and closed many times by that point, but the model couldn't find it in himself to care.

"I'm…I'm alright now," the child murmured, stepping back, and looking disgusted by the amount of snot he saw on Adrien's shirt, "sorry!" the child squeaked, "I didn't realize!"

"It's alright," the teen laughed, ruffling the child's hair, "a smile price to pay when comforting someone." He paused and searched the child's eyes, "are you sure you're feeling better?"

"Yes!" The young boy almost shouted, "I'm so, so, so, sorry, Maman said that I had to be strong, that I shouldn't bother strangers, and yet I…"

"It's alright," Adrien smiled at the child, "I don't mind." Suddenly his eyes grew mischievous and he popped the child on the nose, "however, you are aware that a hug from moi could sell for a small fortune, right?"

"Huh?"

"The name's Adrien Agreste," the model, still kneeling before the child, bowed, "and who might you be?"

The child almost fainted.

Lucas was the boy's name, but that was all the model managed to get out of him before he squeaked and ran out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened. "Thank you!" the child shouted back, as he ran down the hall.

With a laugh, Adrien watched the child go. Waiting for the elevator doors to close again, he took a deep breath and tried to stand up.

A silent scream ripped from his throat and he fell backwards, which did not help. Seeing black spots scattered about his vision Adrien took deep breaths, before rolling himself onto his stomach, and then slowly pushing himself to his knees. His arms still shook, but they held up. Plagg floated above him, face laced with concern and annoyance. "Which floor was it?" he eventually asked, waiting patiently for his chosen's pain to become manageable.

"The sixth."

From there the walk was a slow one. Thankfully, the hall was desolate of people, and Adrien was free to use the wall for support without raising any suspicion.

"You know, for someone who say's their going to take care of themselves, you're certainly hurting yourself allot."

"Oh, stuff it, Plagg."

After what felt like an eternity, Adrien made it to Mariette's room. He almost couldn't do it. How could he open this door and face her? His Lady, his Princess? Would she blame him, for not destroying the pendant immediately? No, she'd been the one to specifically ask that he didn't use his powers during that fight, there was already so much destruction…

But if he'd used his staff, maybe he could have smashed it? Or, if he'd knocked Angel unconscious. Or if he'd just been one second quicker!

"Are you going to open the door or not?" Plagg all but whined, whacking Adrien in the face with his tail and away from his dark spiral of thoughts.

Well, there was no guarantee she was awake yet anyway. The doctors said she'd been fading in and out of consciousness all morning, but that's to be expected, the battle ended only yesterday. Oh gods, was it _only_ yesterday?

Taking a step forward, and one deep breath, Adrien knocked, "I'm coming in!"

He heard no response.

Looking to Plagg, he gestured to his coat, and the kwami flew in without delay.

He stepped into the room, and was almost blinded by the white.

And the first thought that came to him was that it wasn't _right,_ his Lady's color was red. The red of fire, of life, of blood…

Two bluebell eyes caught his gaze, staring at him from their bed by the window, open and letting in a cool breeze.

The small smile that blossomed on her face took his breath away.

"…you're awake."

It was a breathless murmur, no more than a whisper, but she heard it all the same.

She beckoned him closer, and his feet carried him without delay. In a blink, he stood before her bed, shuffling nervously, and unsure of what to say. The sheer joy that bubbled in his chest at seeing her _alive and safe_ stole his every word.

With a soft giggle, she tapped the space on the bed beside her, and he sat down instantly, ignoring the way it jostled his back. He would have gladly sat there in silence, staring into her eyes for the rest of the day, but she suddenly pulled on his wrist, sending him tumbling against her, his uncaptured hand shooting out to make sure he didn't squish her. She didn't seem to mind. Burying her face into the crook of his neck she giggled at the shiver it elected from her captive, "mine," she whispered, "all mine."

Adrien promptly fainted.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 **A/N: It's been awhile since I written any fanfic, but I stumbled across this series and it simply would not leave my head. I'm sorry if a few of the characters are OC and I know allot of you are going to be highly confused by Marinette's behavior. However, remember what Alya was saying earlier, something that may or may not have pertained to Marinette's head? Yeah, that might have something to do with it.**

 **If there are any questions, please free to ask, and I'll either answer it in story, or via these notes.**


	2. Chapter 2: Mine

**Disclaimer: I own naughta.**

Chapter Two: Mine

 _Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god._

Her mind was on repeat, chasing itself in circles.

Adrien was in her arms. _Adrien is in her arms._

He's asleep. _His hair is soooo soft._

He looks so peaceful. _His lips are like velvet…_

"You know, I always thought it was the patient who got molested by people in hospitals, not the other way around."

With a squeak, Marinette's hand flew away from Adrien's lips as if scolded. Eyes wide and panicked she gulped, "A…A…Alya?"

"The one and only," her best friend declared, strutting into the hospital room like she owned the place, phone bouncing in her hand, "now, tell me, what did you do to knock _your_ one and only unconscious?"

"I…I didn't do anything!" Well, that she could recall.

"Oh?" the raised eyebrow was entirely unnecessary.

She hadn't done anything, honest! Well, maybe she had? In all honesty, Marinette couldn't really recall. In fact, she couldn't recall allot of things. Why was she in the hospital? She remembered walking home. Walking home from what? She didn't know. She remembered white and feathers. White feathers, yes, that's right, white feathers, like an angels', so pure and beautiful in the light. But, for some reason, they also scared her. They reminded her of decay and death. Was there an Akuma? She couldn't remember. Just like she couldn't remember anything from this morning. It had felt like she had been moving through a fog, a thick fog where a strange feminine voice laughed. 'He's ours,' the voice had declared. Who? She'd wanted to ask, but her voice wouldn't come, 'He's ours,' the voice repeated. The voice was possessive, controlling, but it was right. She understood that now.

 _He's ours._

If an Akuma had appeared, then that meant Chat Noir might know what was going on.

 _He's ours._

But she couldn't go ask him now, not as confused and lost as she was, not with _Adrien_ passed out in her arms.

 _He's ours._

Had she done something to upset him? Oh, gods, she hopes not. Maybe he'd just passed out from exhaustion? Exhaustion?

"Alya," Marinette asked tentatively, hand unconsciously combing through her crushes hair, "how long have I been out?"

"Around a day or two."

"Around?"

"Well, it highly depends on if your actually awake right now or not."

"Huh?"

Alya sighed and gestured to her roaming hands, "seriously girl, it's kind of creeping me out."

 _He's ours._

She should move her hands away. She really should. Upon closer inspection, Adrien's position—half on top of her—doesn't look comfortable at all. In fact, it looks like it might hurt his back. Or, considering a soft grimace had just developed on his face, it already has. But his hair is just so soft, like a kittens', and, oh, did she really have to? Well, not really. She could just move him. Ah, but what if that woke him up? Would he be creeped out by her? Would he freak out? What if he found her disgusting and never wanted to see her again? What if!

"Marinette!" Alya practically shouted, tossing a pillow in her face, and boldly moving Adrien—still passed out—to the foot of the bed. "Stop freaking out, girl! The doctor said some strange behavior was expected when you woke up. Our little princeling already knew this when he came to visit you."

Our? No, no, that wasn't right. Adrien didn't belong to _Alya or anyone else_.

 _He's ours._

"You're right," Marinette heard herself sigh. Ah, but that _wasn't right_. She hadn't spoken.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so confused, and…and…it's _Adrien."_ Well, that she could agree with, even if it was someone else speaking _with her voice_.

"I understand," Alya, sweet, kind, Alya, smiled, "your crush came to see you. The guy you've stalked for half a year, the guy you've can't even talk to—he passed out in your arms. And, oh dear, what better gift could there be?"

…can she take back everything she said about Alya? That was just plain mean! Sure, Marinette knows his schedule by heart, sure, she has around a hundred pictures of him littered about her room, but she was by no means a stalker!

The _other Marinette_ laughed nervously, "are you sure I'm not dreaming?"

"Want me to pinch you?"

 _No!_

"How long are you staying?" the _other Marinette_ asked instead.

"What, am I disrupting your plans?"

There had been absolutely no need for Alya to wiggle her eyebrows. None what so ever.

"No, I'm just feeling a bit tired…are you sure this isn't a dream?" The _other Marinette_ gestured toward the slumbering Prince.

The pinch was, in retrospect, totally expected.

"Believe me now?"

"Owww"

She didn't have to be so rough about it!

With a sigh, Alya backed up a bit and gave her a once over, "you look horrible." The budding reporter murmured, "you really should go back to sleep," Alya's eyes flickered over to Adrien, "and we should probably wake him up."

"No!"

The words were her own, but weren't. Whoever this other being was, they agreed on one thing, _let him stay._

At Alya's rather incredulous stare the _other Marinette_ became flustered, and the baker's daughter almost laughed, grateful it wasn't actually her who was under that stare. That'll teach you to highjack my body, she thought, crossing her arms in her mind and giving a victorious huff. The _other Marinette_ either didn't hear her, or chose to ignore her completely. The young designer's bets were on the latter.

"Its…it's just…he looks so tired…and…well…there's really no harm in letting him rest."

"No harm to you, maybe."

They flinched at the slightly accusatory tone.

But before the _other one_ could speak a sigh passed Alya's lips and she shook her head in defeat. "Just this once. I'll handle the others. There won't be any more visitors for the rest of the day. However," hazel eyes narrowed, and a finger was japed into her chest, "you need to rest. As soon as I leave this room, you better hit the hay, cause if you wind up waking your prince with your fondling, then there's no telling how things will go down, but" those hazel eyes drew closer, frown firmly set in place bellow them, "I can tell you it isn't going to be anything good. Especially if a nurse walks in."

Ah, right, nurses, doctors, she was in a hospital, why hadn't she thought of that?

"Understood!"

With another shake of her head Alya drew back again, murmuring all the while that she was so going to regret her decision.

But she wasn't! Maybe! Oh, who was she kidding?

 _He's ours._

As soon as Alya closed the doors Marinette found herself struggling against the sheets, trying to reach the boy slumbering at the foot of her bed.

It was odd. How deeply he slept. It was odd. The voice in her head. It was odd, the whole situation was odd. Everything about today was just plain odd!

Her hand made its way back into his hair. It was soothing, how soft his hair was. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The way he unconsciously butted his head into the palm of her hand when she'd stopped combing his hair to stare.

It was soothing, the way he began to purr when she started giving light scratches on certain spots of his head…

Wait, purring?

"Tikki!" Marinette cried, her voice now her own, "Tikki! What am I doing? What's going on!"

The purring was light and adorable, the content sigh that past his lips breathtaking.

But there was something wrong with this scene. Something very, very, wrong.

 _He's ours._

"Marinette!" The tiny kwami cried out, racing to her side in a heartbeat, "calm down!"

"Calm down?" she was almost hyperventilating. And she couldn't stop her hands! Some part of her _needed_ that soft purr to continue, some part of her wrapped around the sound, cradled it close, and declared it _hers._

 _He's_ _ **ours**_ _._

"It's alright," Tikki declared, looking her chosen in the eyes and instructing her to take deep breaths, "everything's going to be alright."

"A…alright? What's even going on?" She was calmer now, but her voice still shook, and her eyes would always find a way to roam towards Adrien, "why am I doing this? Why am I feeling so—"

"Possessive?" her kwami supplied, eyes a little sad, "obsessive? Like you can't live unless he's _yours_ , completely and utterly?"

That…summed it up pretty nicely, actually.

"Is there…" the kwami paused, taking a deep breath, "a voice in your head? A voice that's you, but isn't?"

Yup. Absolutely. All Marinette could manage was a nod, her confusion and worry mounting as she watched Tikki's tiny face re-enact an entire play of emotions.

They remained silent, Marinette unsure of what to say, and Tikki obviously thinking about what to say.

 _If anything at all,_ the _other Marinette_ drawled.

Oh, hush, the young hero scolded, let her think.

"It's…" Tikki began, interrupting the _others_ retort, "a rather long story. And one that Adrien should hear as well."

"Adrien?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion.

"He has a right to know. After all, this affects him too."

"But what about my secret identity?" she inquired, for some reason not as panicked about it as she should be. Perhaps the continuous purrs had something to do with it?

And, now that she was thinking about it. Since when could a human purr, anyway? Eh, does it even matter? He's just so adorable!

 _Way to brush off an issue_.

Oh, stuff it.

Meanwhile, Tikki had lapsed back into silence, head bowed in concentration. It didn't last long, however, as her eyes, burning with intensity, came to meet a pair of bluebells, "Is Adrien _yours_ or is he _ours_?"

Something about how Tikki said that sounded familiar.

 _Ours._

 _He's ours._

She almost blurted that out, almost. But was it her who would have said it, truly?

 _He's ours._

But who, exactly, does that entail? Herself and…who else?

 _He's ours._

"O…"

 _He's ours._

No, that wasn't right, it couldn't be. Adrien wasn't a possession. He didn't _belong_ to anyone.

 _He's ours._

"Ou…"

No, no, no, no, no.

 _He's ours._

No! If anything, if he belonged to anyone, anyone at all, then!

 _ **He's ours.**_

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Confused.

That word basically summed up how he felt at the moment.

"Plagg?" Adrien called, forest green eyes searching the darkness, squinting as if it might help him see better in the strange world of pitch black he found himself in.

There was no answer.

It wasn't all that surprising, the model had been travelling this weird black plane for what felt like hours now. His back didn't hurt anymore, there was no sound, other than his voice, and he'd yet to trip or stumble over anything. He'd pinched himself a long time ago. But, as was becoming his habit, he pinched himself again, wincing slightly at the sting, before trudging on.

The plane was, strangely, kind of comforting. It was warm, but not overly so. It was dark, but in a gentle way, like when a child hides under their blanket. It was silent, but not oppressive.

It felt like he was sleepwalking.

But he'd pinched himself so many times he was pretty sure that wasn't the case.

However, lost in his daze, he didn't notice the strange shapes forming before him, and he tripped.

The pain in his nose was taken as yet more evidence that he wasn't stuck in some sort of dream.

With a grunt, the model looked up, holding his nose and squinting his eyes, he observed the vague shape at his feet. To the touch, it felt like some sort of stone, chipped and cracked, bits and pieces of the strange object crumbled into his outstretched hand. Dusty, gritty. Definitely a stone.

Slowly getting to his feet, Adrien observed his surroundings.

Strange shapes now protruded from the ground, curves and sharp edges giving the distinct outline of a ruin of some sort.

There was no light. He still couldn't really _see_ anything. But the shapes where a shade darker than their surroundings, so if he went slowly enough—and sacrificed his arms to a good battering against what may have been walls—then he could travers the area easily enough.

"Plagg?" he called again.

A small part of himself hoping he might receive an answer.

He did get one, sort of. There was a pulse of light. He hadn't caught it quick enough, so he had no idea which direction it came from.

"Plagg?" he called once more.

And there is was, a pulse of red light— _red?_ —off to his left.

Due to the color of the light, he wasn't all that sure it was actually Plagg who was answering him. But it was either go to it, or wander the black plane for all eternity, so, taking a deep breath, he turned to his left and moved towards the light.

He wound up reaching is objective much faster than expected, and with little to no difficulty. Adrien probably would have been suspicious if Ladybug wasn't seated before him, red clad legs crossed and smile present on her lips.

She looked, for all the world, like the cat that ate the canary.

"My Lady?" he whispered, frozen in place.

She merely laughed, the sound like bells, "close, chaton."

He watched as she uncrossed her legs and stood, in one fluid motion, and began to practically glide towards him.

"Close?" he managed to ask, before she stood before him, hand cupping his check.

"You could say," she whispered, drawing her lips close to his ear, "that I am your original owner."

"Original…?" _Owner?_ And here the model thought he couldn't get any more confused.

Her laughter, right next to his ear, was not helping matters. It sent shivers down his spine. It was a wonderful sound, beautiful, and bright. And, yet, he shivered. There was something behind that laugh that just wasn't…right.

"Where's Marinette?"

He'd blurted out the question without thinking.

He hadn't expected the rather violent response. Whatever this being before him was, she was still Ladybug, in a sense, maybe, there was no way she'd hurt him, right?

Well, he thought, struggling to breath as she applied pressure to his throat, at least he knows she isn't _hi_ s Ladybug.

"No!" She suddenly yelled, eyes gleaming in the dark.

She appeared to be fighting some sort of internal struggle, her face contorting, somewhere between determined and enraged. But, just as quickly as it began, whatever the struggle was over, was apparently resolved, and she released her grip, letting him fall limply to the ground.

Gasping for air, clutching his throat, he stared at the being before him.

She was smiling again. Calm, soft, reassuring, and oh so beautiful.

She kneeled down before him, and it took all his willpower not to flinch when her hands racked through his hair. It was like some weird sort of torture. The way she stroked his head was both gentle and harsh, at once tugging at his hair, and soothing it down. It was so strange, the pain and pleasure sent his mind wheeling, sometimes he'd yelp with pain, other times he'd feel the purr bubbling up in his chest.

He could leave, he _should_ leave. This wasn't _his_ Ladybug, his Lady and Princess. But, he had this sinking feeling that if he left, if he turned away from this _original owner_ , then something terrible would happen; so, he stayed where he was before her, allowing the strange being to move his body any which-a-way she desired.

Eventually, the harsh tugs bleed away, and his head had somehow found its way to the beings' lap, the purrs that escaped him were continuous, and he was half asleep before the sudden growl came.

" _He's_ _ **ours**_ _."_

Startled, he tried to jump away, body jerking. But the _Ladybug-that-was-not-his_ held fast, he couldn't move. Her hands had stilled, for a time, before the went back to combing through his hair. But it was back to the strange mixture of harsh tugs and soothing touches.

Her eyes were distant, and she murmured words that made no sense to him.

"If anything at all."

"Way to brush off an issue"

She went silent for a time, but the outrage that suddenly colored her face made him flinch.

" _Ours. He's ours."_

Her hand had stilled atop his head, a heavy and oppressive weight. He didn't move, didn't breathe, only stared up at the being with wide eyes, wanting to escape, to _run_ , but knowing, somehow, that it would be impossible.

" _He's ours."_ She repeated, eyes narrowed in a glare, and hand delicately, almost threateningly, tracing his jaw.

" _He's ours."_ She repeated, again, and again, and again, each time grasping tightly onto a different part of his body, as if trying to affirm that he was there, and whole.

" _ **He's ours."**_ She finally spat, squeezing down on his throat once more.

Even if the being before him was not _his_ Ladybug, Adrien was still fairly certain that she wasn't entirely aware that she was currently chocking him to death…

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" _ **He's mine!"**_

The snarl came from deep within her throat, her eyes narrowed and glowing a dark and twisted blue, " _ **I won't share him with the likes of you!"**_

" _You won't' share?"_ The _other Marinette_ hissed, before laughing coldly, _"I was his owner long before you!"_

"Marinette?" Tikki squeaked, stopping her reply, the tiny kwami shaking with, fear? But, no, that can't be right, there was no reason for Tikki to fear her.

"You're chocking him."

"Huh?"

Looking down, following the kwami's eyes, she found herself looking at her hands. Hands, that, somehow or another, wound up around Adrien's throat.

But, most surprising, was the pair of forest green eyes staring weakly up at her.

She couldn't help it. She stared back. Those eyes, hazy with sleep and pain, that smile, strained yet relieved, that hair, tousled just right, oh, he was a sight to behold.

Not to say he wasn't one when he wasn't being chocked to death. Because he was. It's just, at that moment, he looked…

"Delicious," she murmured, only to hide her face in her hands.

Beyond grateful for some air, Adrien gulped it down, while trying to ignore the creeping blush the set his cheeks aflame. He has still confused, highly, highly confused, but right now, all he needed to know was that he was with _his_ Lady and Princess. With that in mind, he pushed himself up into a seated position on the bed, hissing slightly as his stiff back cried in protest, "Marinette?"

Bluebells pecked around fingers, embarrassed blush evident on her features.

"Y…yes?" She stammered, scooting back rather hastily to give him space.

"Is that your kwami?"

Her shocked expression was more than enough proof.

He was back.

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 **A/N: This chapter is bound to be highly confusing for some, so go ahead and ask away. Some of your questions will be answered, slowly in story. And, as some of your questions may just be due to my horrible writing skills, they will be answered by either this little section here, or via other means. Anyway, thank you all for your support, and see you next chapter!**


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